It Burns
by Luthien Potter
Summary: OotP SPOILERS!! One-shot. Companion to 'It Hurts'. Harry's thoughts at the memorial service of one of the most important people in his life.


Hello, yet again! I was asked for a Harry POV on the eulogy Remus gave for Sirius. I thought about it for a while, and here it is! Ya'll have to tell me if it's any good, I had to work harder on it than I did for Remus' POV. That came naturally, this didn't so let me know if it sucks and I'll take it down.  
  
Oh, it helps considerably if you read my story 'It Hurts' before this. Same scenario, DRASTICALLY different POV.  
  
Okay, you know the drill. Review it at the end!  
  
Peace out, all you people! ~Desertrain  
  
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It burns.  
  
It's like a physical ache, this burning hatred. I thought that I had hated before. I thought I hated the Dursleys. I thought I hated Professor Snape. I thought I hated Draco Malfoy, and he certainly comes closest. But no, that is just severe dislike, with maybe a tinge of pity. I had never really hated anyone before, not for anything they had done.  
  
But I do now.  
  
In the moment that I saw Sirius fall, I realized what exactly that burning sensation that sprung up in the pit of my stomach was. I felt it when I saw Bellatrix Lestrange. I felt it when I saw the Dark Lord Voldemort.  
  
He will never be able to use my mind again. My hatred of him bars his entrance.  
  
I hear Remus' footsteps as he steps up to the podium in the small church that holds Sirius' closest friends. He does not speak right away, and I know he is looking out over the congregation. I can practically feel his eyes slide over the people grouped to remember Sirius: Arabella, Mundungus, and Tonks all sit in a row. Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore sit in the front, on the other side of the church. Neville and his Grandmother came, and I am glad they did. I am glad that Sirius had earned the respect of at least two of the wizarding community that did not know, until after the fact, of his involvement in the Order. Ron and Hermione sit at my right side, silently crying and their hands clasped between them. It has just been this summer that they realize that this really /is/ a war, and that they might not survive it together. It gave them the push they needed to come together as a couple. That is one thing I am glad for. They are perfect for each other, and will be able to comfort each other as they cannot comfort me. The rest of the Weasley clan is arranged around us, each in their own world of grief. They sit arranged around me, as if to protect me from something.  
  
As if they could protect me from the burning hatred, the darkness that threatens to burn my soul out form inside.  
  
I feel Remus' eyes come to rest on me. Last summer was a turning point in our friendship. The month I stayed at Grimmauld Place was the month that he ceased to be Professor Lupin and became Remus, one of my best friends, and one of the two remaining Marauders. This morning when he, Moody, and Tonks appeared to pick me up at the Dursleys' for the memorial had been the happiest I had been all summer. That lasted exactly until I remembered /why/ they had been allowed to pick me up.  
  
I know that Remus worries about me. I feel his gaze on the top of my head, as I stare at my hands, clenched in my lap. Finally, I hear him clear his throat and begin to speak.  
  
"I had hoped that I would never have to give another one of these speeches. I have given too many of them already. And yet, here I am, back at the podium, expected to give another eulogy. And for this one, I haven't even a piece of a body to direct it to."  
  
At this, my eyes finally leave their inspection of my fists to rest on the empty coffin. No body. It wasn't the spell that had killed Sirius. Even if it had been the Killing Curse, I could have at least given Sirius a proper burial. No. It was that damnable veil. Sirius fell into it, and never came out the other side. Not even Dumbledore knows where he's gone to.  
  
"Sirius Black was one of the best men I ever had the pleasure to know. Yes, the world thought he was a criminal, and I cannot deny that they had good cause. He was well set up. But Sirius was also the only man I could think of that, even with the Dementor's Kiss waiting for him, would place himself in immediate danger of a horrible punishment just to help his godson."  
  
I snap my eyes to look at Remus. Why is he bringing me into this? I know that he is trying to remind us of Sirius' greatness, his kindness and compassion. But what he does not know is that his statement makes me feel responsible, all over again, for Sirius' death. But as I know he did not mean the statement that way, I decide to take it the way it was meant, not the way it was phrased.  
  
As I look at Remus, I see sadness register deep in his eyes. He wonders why my eyes are dry, unlike everyone else's. A fifteen year old boy should cry over the death of a close friend, closer even that family. But I cannot. My eyes are dry, as if I had been born without tear ducts. I learned early on at the Dursleys that to cry showed weakness, weakness they could exploit. They were never physically abusive, but they did take perverse pleasure in making me as miserable as they possibly could. This summer has been different, though. Aunt Petunia's eyes are finally open as to what is happening in the Wizarding world. She knows about the Prophecy. She knows that they call me the Boy-Who-Lived, as much as I hate the moniker. She made sure that Uncle Vernon knew that he was to treat me decently this year, if he intended on keeping a wife. I know that my lack of speech over the summer has made the Dursleys afraid of me in a way they never were before. They feed me now, and they got me clothes that fit. But I think it's more than the lack of speech that frightens them. I think they can see the hatred that burns in my eyes, and are afraid that I will turn it on them.  
  
They are afraid of being burned, just as I am afraid of being consumed by the burning.  
  
After a moment that seems like eternity, Remus continues. "I honestly do not know what I can say to convey my sadness at the loss that we have all suffered. But Sirius was not 'lost' to us. No, he was taken from us. And my feelings are not limited to sadness. I feel rage that his own cousin would try to take his life. I feel the emptiness that his absence has left. I feel the need to avenge his death, and the death of so many others. This is a curse, this watching the ones I love die, and being able to do nothing. We all feel this curse, some more keenly than others."  
  
"We all knew and loved Sirius. He knew and loved all of us. His colleagues, and his friends. But most of all, he loved those he considered to be his family." With this, Remus goes from simply looking at me to locking eyes with me. He knows that though everyone in the church was a friend of Sirius, there were really only two people he considered family. Him and myself. He understands. I know that though no-one else does, Remus understands what he has lost in Sirius. I lost the only family that cared about me, and he lost the only childhood friend remaining that had not been afraid of him in his werewolf form. And now I know that I will not be alone, but that I will have Remus. We can grieve together, for we understand one another in a way that no one else ever will.  
  
"There weren't many of those. And a love that powerful does not fade. It lingers. And that is what will help us to beat Sirius' murderers. They think that they did themselves a favor, and that we will be too grief stricken to fight back.  
  
"They are wrong.  
  
"They have united us into a force that is to be reckoned with. And we will be victorious.  
  
"Because Sirius would have wanted it that way."  
  
In a flash, I feel the hate begin to subside. Not disappear-it's still there, in abundance. And for that I am glad, as it allows me freedom from Voldemort's mind-probing. But as fast as the hate subsides, a new emotion, just as strong, fills it's space. It still burns, but /this/ burning promises to keep me moving, instead of threatening to consume me from the inside.  
  
It is determination.  
  
Determination to beat the ones who took my Godfather away from me. We /will/ be victorious.  
  
And it will be because of Sirius, because none of us can let his death be in vain. .  
  
Remus steps down from the podium. In one swift movement, I rise and meet him in front of it. We are still looking each other squarely in the eye. I see the sadness still in his eyes, and the relief as I step up to him. I see the triumph that flares as I speak two words, the only ones that I will speak today, and possibly for the rest of the summer. At least until I leave the Dursleys' house.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
And the words burn in my unused throat. 


End file.
